


i found gold here

by jackgyeoms



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Fluff, Just some cute family fluff of Elia and Lyanna riding off together, Past Elia Martell/Rhaegar Targaryen - Freeform, past Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 15:02:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6810220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackgyeoms/pseuds/jackgyeoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elia never thought she’d look at her husband’s mistress and feel anything but disdain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i found gold here

 

Elia never thought she’d look at her husband’s mistress and feel anything but disdain. Elia had known long before Rhaegar ever admitted he was having an affair, and even then, the words had only left his lips in the last weeks before their divorce was finalised. It had never occurred to her to meet the woman – the affair was the apex but not the cause for the end of the relationship - but Lyanna had shown up on her doorstep a few days after the papers had been signed.

She’d looked tired, terrified, and appeared so much younger than she was. Elia remembered thinking that. It was what had made her open the door wider, and listen to what Lyanna had to say. It had been the beginning of it all.

Lyanna looked up now, feeling eyes upon her, and her smile was bright. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and demanded, “What?”

Elia shook her head, took measured steps so that she could lay her hand upon Lyanna’s arm. She traced a pattern down the inside of her arm, and hooked their fingers together. “Just admiring you, Hiriye.”

Lyanna rolled her eyes and elbowed Elia gently in the side. “I look a mess, because someone just won’t go down.”

As if on cue, Jon called out. There were no tears nor smiles, just his solemn face and inquisitive eyes. Like my brother, Lyanna had said, _oh god I gave birth to my brother_.

“Naptime is not his favourite time of day,” Elia murmured.

Lyanna made a noise of agreement, and squinted at the child. “Whether he wants to or not, he needs to. Birthday boy has to be awake for his own party.”

It was his first birthday, and it was to be perfect. It would be the first time since before Jon’s birth that both sides of the family would meet. The pregnancy had been thwart with sharp tongues and weighted stares. Elia knew Brandon Stark was angry and ready to fight Rhaegar for putting his little sister in this situation; knew that Ned had been concerned that Lyanna was too young for the life of a mother; knew that Robert Baratheon had been unable to believe that Lyanna would carry a child that wasn’t his.

It was perhaps in those moments, that Elia realised her feelings. Lyanna had swept in, belly round and cheeks flushed, and had swung all her punches. She had been a goddess of fertility and fire, righteousness and independence. She would not have choices made for her. She would not have words put in her mouth.

Elia had kissed her that night. (“Can I…can I?” “Yes, gods, yes. Just kiss me.”)

Lyanna had warned her family that they were to be cordial. The Dragons were coming, and she would not have their home be a battlefield. Elia had passed the same orders onto her brothers – this was about her one year old son, and nothing else.

(Elia remembered the first time she claimed Jon as hers, just as much as Aegon and Rhaenys were Lyanna’s. It had been over the phone, with the kids dancing and shouting in the background. “My sons,” she had said. From then on, Oberyn always asked after the three Sunspots, and Doran spoke of his two nephews).

“Rhaenys never slept either. She had far more interesting things to do with her time than sleep,” Elia reminisced. Her eldest was coming up to five now, and she grew more and more like her grandmother each day. She just hoped that her daughter wouldn’t have the same life that Rhaella did.

Lyanna hummed, unimpressed. She furrowed her eyebrows at their son. Jon reached for the hair that fell over her shoulder. Little fingers hooked, and Lyanna crumbled. The child was lifted from his crib, and nestled against her chest. “If you’re cranky through cake, it’s not my fault.”

Elia stroked her hand over the boy’s hair; thick, wild and untamed, like his mother’s, like the North. Jon blinked at her in greeting. “I can’t believe he’s one already. Aegon was so much bigger at this age.”

“Sometimes I can believe he’s real. I can’t believe any of this is real.” Lyanna admitted. “Who knew terrible mistakes could lead to the best things in my life?”

Elia kissed her for that, and then kissed her again for good measure. And a third time, before Aegon is calling and stomping down the hall, asking for a balloon to play with.

“I’ve got him,” Lyanna stated, and pressed Jon into Elia’s arms. She dropped a kiss to their son’s head, and her touch lingered on the back of Elia’s hand, before she exited. Elia can hear her voice carrying from where she stands – “Alright, Mi Hijo, which colour do you want?”

In her arms, Jon watched Elia. She rocked the child gently, and muttered, “You sure you don’t want to do your Mama a favourite and sleep?”

Jon made a noise, blew a spit bubble. His eyes crossed trying to get a look at it. Elia smiled fondly, and angled her head to place her lips to his head. He still had that baby smell – Aegon was grown out of his. “Alright Barapha, I get it. Let’s go see whether your sister’s gotten into your presents.”

 

-

 

Regardless of what can be said about Rhaegar (and gods knew there was a lot), but he was a decent father. He has his sons’ balanced on each hip, and nods along to each word Rhaenys said as she recounted an incident from nursery that week. When he’s there, Elia found it hard to be irritated by how little he visited, but words would be had, just like every time he came to see the kids. She suppressed her words, if only for now. It wouldn’t due to bring the mood down.

Elia stood beside her brothers, with baby Tyene in her arms. Nymeria had been clinging to her father’s leg, and was only drawn away by Rhaenys’ insistence that there were games to play. Elia was content to stay and talk business with Doran, and travels with Oberyn. She had done her niceties with Rhaegar, and conversed with Catelyn over the joys of having young children in the home. Later, she knew she would end up talking to Rhaella when things would begin to quieten. The last time, Ned and Rickard had joined them.

Lyanna, on the other hand, was the equivalent of a butterfly, flittering from one group to the next. It was she, more than anyone else, who ensured the peace was kept.

She cooed over how handsome little Robb looked in his sweater. She commented on how fatherhood suited Ned, and teased him on the ‘dad bod’ he was bound to get (and the ‘mum bod’ she proudly had). She spoke about her art and his fencing with Benjen. She gossiped with her father, and relied information of her next showcase to her mother. She challenged Brandon to an arm wrestle, and then to Hungry Hungry Hippos – something that pleased Rhaenys greatly, because it was her game, and she loved winning.

Lyanna complimented Daenerys’ winter dress, and Viserys regal posture (too much like his father, there was little one could say about him that wouldn’t be a bald faced lie, but Rhaella looked like she understood). She gave Rhaella new pictures of the family, because she knew that the grandmother didn’t have enough, not since Aerys had committed them to the fire he died in.

“Ambā, Ambā,” Aegon chanted, and the boy appeared at her feet, brown skin flushed and purple eyes bright. He hooked his hand into her skirt, and tugged. “Ambā.”

Elia swept his hand away from her clothes, lest he pull it down, and held it in her own. Doran took his niece into his arms, who frowned and fought at being moved before settling, apparently satisfied with where she now lay. Elia bowed to be level with her child, and kissed the back of his hand. “Yes, Maahi?”

“Can we have cake now?” he questioned, and then added after a pause, “Please.”

Manners was still something they were working on, but he was getting better. Elia said, “Ask Mama whether it’s time yet,” and Aegon goes, “Mama, Mama.” Lyanna lit up at the words, and swung their boy up into her arms. Aegon was young, had never known anything but Elia and Lyanna together and father away, but it meant a lot that her children loved Lyanna. She wouldn’t have known what to do had they resented her.

“Who wants cake?” Lyanna called to the room, and Aegon looked ecstatic in her arms.

Rhaenys and Daenerys cheered their delight. Nymeria moved swiftly and silently towards the table where the cake had been placed on display. A crowd gathered there. Elia corralled the children, and Lyanna contained the brothers. She was more than happy to threaten a refusal of all cake based treats if Brandon cut in line again.

“And you,” she said, made pointed eye contact with Doran, who feigned innocence. In his wheelchair, Rhaenys sat on his lap, Tyene having being taken by her Oberyn, and they all knew he was more than happy to use that to his advantage.

Aegon got more cake on his face than in his mouth, and Rhaella took a picture of the mess he made of himself. She would frame it and mount it upon her bare walls, something that Aegon will no doubt feel embarrassment about when he gets older. Jon sits with Lyanna, and shares her cake. Just like every time, he looked confused by the feel and taste in his mouth. Brandon pointed it out and declared, “Ned, just like you”. Nymeria tried to share hers with Tyene when backs were turned, and frowned unhappily when she was stopped – Tyene didn’t seem that pleased either. Robb got frosting smeared down the front of his clothes, much to Catelyn’s chagrin. Viserys stole Daenerys’ cake when he’d finished his, and Rhaegar had taken it upon himself to take it back, hissing tight words until his mother laid a hand upon his shoulder to silence him.

Elia looked around the room and thought about what Lyanna said said early. _Who knew terrible mistakes could lead to the best things in my life?_ Because although Elia wished she hadn’t had to go through the divorce, to have her world turned upside and twisted before her very eyes, to have even allowed herself to fall for the fantastical lie of Rhaegar Targaryen, she cannot bring herself to regret what Rhaegar or his actions. It is what gave her the family she adores.

Emotional, she shared a cakey kiss with Lyanna, eyes fluttering close and hand pressed to her knee.

Lyanna hums, licked her lips to chase the taste. “What’s up?”

“I love you,” Elia confessed. (The first time she said it was when Lyanna went into labour. They were soft words of comfort, and a promise for their future, and Lyanna had cackled. “You tell me now? Seriously?” she gritted her teeth through her contractions, “No, I demand a do over.”

The second time, it was in the quiet after they had brought Jon home, and Lyanna was incapable of looking away from the tiny babe. Elia had pressed her face into the space between Lyanna’s shoulder blades and whispered it into the skin. Lyanna had exhaled, turned, and returned the sentiment in hushed breaths between kisses).

Lyanna smiled, and from this close, Elia can count the freckles on the bridge of her nose. She was kissed, sound and firm, less cakey but with just as much emotion. “I love you,” Lyanna echoed.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I don't speak Spanish or Punjabi, so all of those words/terms are taken from google searches. If anyone sees a problem, please point it out to me and i'll change it.
> 
> feedback is appreciated!
> 
> i have a tumblr [@oclarkent](http://gladers.co.vu)


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